Notice of Update: Attention, readers browsing these ancient blog entries from yesteryear! On occasion, such as here in the summer of 2023, I review these old musings, more specifically, the photo directories their images were taken from. In the case of this post, and as you can read in the title, this one was about a drive-in theater. As such, there was one photo, now deep below, featuring the movie screen, and that was it. Obviously, quite a bit more was explored on this day. This update is my attempt to fix things or make them worse, depending on your perspective. Without further ado, let the monkey dance.
Who thought it was a good idea to remove decrepit old buildings that benefit those of us looking for creepy spaces to stick our noses and cameras into? Back in 2005, I hadn’t yet started collecting souvenirs from these derelict black widow-infested places on the verge of falling down. In my mind, I was being respectful, but not only that, this is private property and it was already bad enough that I was likely trespassing. All someone needed to see was that I was also stealing during my intrusions.
There’s a fine line between junk and treasure, but after all of this is scraped off the land (which in 2023 is still empty), there is no more ability to determine or document the value of any of it.
A bit further down the road, but still in Superior, Arizona, I check out a bunch of long-forgotten cabins that amazingly had not been vandalized.
What’s in the fridge? Dipping into these spaces, I was and am always aware that I don’t want someone to come around the corner while I’m occupied with something that puts me in a position where I’m trapped from making a quick escape and thus avoiding the knife blade of the psycho-squatter or the shotgun blast of the person asking if I’d seen the non-existent No Trespassing sign. Thus, no photo was taken after moving the wood pieces so I could open the stove (to find the dismembered head of some victim) or the fridge (where other body parts certainly were packed and waiting for me to spew vomit on them).
Don’t think I’m not tempted to grab those curtains, give ’em a wash, and hang them up in our bathroom. Check out the attention to detail of the seamstress who put those curtains on a sewing machine, doing her utmost to avoid uniformity in the cut and layout, thus playing subliminal games on the occupant of the room who couldn’t be certain why things felt off.
The cracked mirror is revealing the secret; can you see it?
Back in the day, America had land, and it could be used for cabins as the rate of return and profit margins for larger investors and property managers were not the sole operating model. By 2023, America is a greed economy, and this was obviously well underway back in 2005, but still, I can’t help but lament the ugly turn our country has taken on its lemming path into the oblivion of wealth concentration.
From the outskirts of town, I arrive in the downtown mecca of what was once a thriving mining town. Now Superior crumbles.
Some years after 2005, the historic Magma Hotel was saved from ruin and rebuilt. This should have been awesome news, except its nightly price of about $180 with no other amenities in the town of Superior made this an equation too difficult for us to figure out, and so it is likely that we’ll never stay in this place less than 80 miles from home.
Consider that the median income in 1966 was $6900 per year or $3.13 per hour. You could rent a room at Motel 6 for $6, which represented less than 2 hours of work for a majority of Americans. In 2023, the median income is $70,784 per year or $32.17 per hour putting a room well off the beaten path at the equivalent of nearly 6 hours of work. Considering that I can find rooms on the rim of the Grand Canyon at Bright Angel Lodge this year for as little as $90, there’s something going wrong with private enterprise or is it private equity?
Opened in 1920 and closed in 2000 due to declining enrollments, this is the old Superior High School building that was apparently about to be renovated. At the time, I had no idea what for, but I just learned that it serves as a location for community events and is on the National Register of Historic Places.
As I got out of the car to photograph the school, I saw a vehicle at the side of the building and an open gate. I walked over and yelled out for whoever it was that was working here today. Politely, I asked the guy while simultaneously showing him my camera and explaining my interest in historic places if I could grab a quick photo inside; he welcomed me to go wherever I’d like to, on my own.
The first seniors graduated from Superior High School in 1921, when some unknown-to-me students who were just turning 18 years old were about to enter the workforce or go off to university. On the day I was here on campus, those students would have been 100 years old and had most likely passed away. I considered the chances that one of those teenagers washed their hands here at a sparkling new sink, excited that the next day they’d be free of high school and ready to take on the world where radio broadcasts were getting more common, motion pictures were about to spread like wildfire with the advent of the “talkies” during the 20s, and owning an automobile was about to become the standard. Standing there in the school lavatory, they couldn’t have imagined how rapidly life was about to change.
Now here I am in 2023 asking Google’s artificial intelligence called BARD on the internet if there was anyone of note from Superior, Arizona, and it told me of Glenn Goold who played Major League Baseball; Donna J. Haraway, a feminist science studies scholar and emerita professor of history of consciousness at the University of California, Santa Cruz; Sandra Smith, a judge on the United States Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit; futurist and author Duane Elgin; and Jeff Carney who is a professional poker player with winnings totaling over $10 million. Not only were they all from Superior, but they all appeared to have graduated from this very high school.
These high school documents from prior to 1945 had finally outgrown their utility and were simply left behind, like the memories of those they once belonged to.
Because I’m writing this update in 2023, I can make snarky comments such as this is what the future of school libraries will look like if the Republicans have their way regarding their outmoded policies about banning books. Back in the 1920s, when this school was built, books were the path to all knowledge, innovation, and building futures. Today, they are intrusions into the wealthy, maintaining a stupid subservient population of idiots blinded by the banality of a fascist media that distributes stupidity.
The laughter is gone, the budding romance of a couple of students is long forgotten, and the hated teachers are resting in their graves.
Those who stood here in the early morning closing lockers could have never imagined a day when the halls of their alma mater would lay silent for years.
As the school is now a community events center, I hope this old gymnasium has seen a few more basketball games to remind the walls what it once sounded like when kids chased back and forth, hoping to get the ball in the hoop and score a couple of points for their team.
The poster for the class of 2001 still hangs on the door as of 2005 when I was walking the empty halls.
Also, as of 2005, the Apache Drive-in in Globe, Arizona, was one of four operational Drive-ins left in the state.
We had vowed for years to come see a movie here one day, but the theater closed permanently in 2013, and we missed our chance.
Some of us have fond memories of these speakers that hung in our cars.
My exploration on this day continued for a bit longer in Globe before turning around to head back to Phoenix.
But not before a stop in Miami, Arizona.
In every small town in America Caroline and I have ever visited, there exists hope that someday remote work and a shifting employment landscape would work in favor of these decaying, once glorious places that could benefit from some revitalization, but after 25 years of seeing the continuing decline, I think we realize that one day they’ll be removed from the map while humanity congregates in cities where the majority of jobs are. Remember, I’m writing this in 2023; my vision wasn’t that prescient in 2005.
This rooster is long dead, and nobody cares; why should it be any different when it comes to places off the beaten path?
Where did those doors lead to back when there was something to step out to?
These golden orange poppy flowers are everywhere in Miami.
To this day, if I were a rich man, I’d buy this building and turn it into a home and creative space for Caroline and me.
And this is exactly what our refrigerator would look like. Oh wait, this is our refrigerator. No, it’s not. I was kidding, but from the state of the rotting food in it, I’d guess the people who had been living here had not been gone all that long.
Wandering in other people’s memories is a wonderful pastime for me.
And this brings to a conclusion my exploration of not only these old towns but whatever recollections I have of this day.
